Cake
by shi-chan
Summary: YAOI ItaIru Iruka found out Itachi's birthday and makes a cake. Lots of loving then comes along.


I have no excuse for this coming up save for the fact that I was bored in class and wrote smut. I had to fill out the rest later.

RP-based. No explanation as to WHY this happened, just pure smut-fun. That's the purpose. If you want to know what happened for the current setting to be 'achieved' mail me and I'll tell you.

Anyway, enjoy I guess. I had fun writing this. Pardon mistakes. I'm silly.

PS – Because this is smut, I'll be keeping the PORN posted here for a few days before editing and providing a link. I'm too lazy to fix it now, so meeeh. Sue me.

I do not own Naruto. If I did, I'd live in Studio Pierrot.

**CAKE**

Iruka was not meant to find out apparently. The Chuunin assumed this fact simply because Itachi never mentioned it and knowing the young man, Itachi probably thought that it was an insignificant date, unimportant and simply just _not_ worth his time. Iruka, however (and obviously) thought differently. When the Chuunin found out accidentally from Kisame – who at that time was sharing a coffee break with the Chuunin in the staff lounge of the Sound's Administration Office (while Iruka remained pressed against a wall despite the fact that Kisame was drinking his coffee, relaxed and calm several feet away on a chair) – that Itachi was going to be a year older, Iruka had been _stumped._ What went through the Chuunin's mind upon hearing Kisame's words was somewhere between _'He's going to be a year older. Aww!'_ and _'Why the fuck didn't he tell me? Am I that – that – that insignificant to him?'_. Of course, upon gaining this new knowledge, it took gentle prodding, numerous innocent smiles (his faced _ached_ later on), shy inquiries and _lots_ of coffee and biscuits before Iruka managed to extract the exact date of the burly blue-shark man.

Which was why, at the moment, in the little kitchen of their single bedroom apartment, Iruka was trying desperately to remove a sponge cake from the baking tin without splitting it in half. The dilemma? He had about seven more different sized baking tins extract cakes from. Yes, Umino Iruka, twenty-five, Chuunin and teacher with probably the longest patience in the face of the country (considering he taught little hell spawns in Konoha's Academy) was currently waging war with the baking tin. He had tried everything from the fork, spatula, spoon and even debated on the ice cream scoop he found in one of the drawers of the kitchen. Of course, upon glance at the ice cream scoop he had tossed it behind his back randomly as he continued to search for more utensils to use to chuck the sponge cake out of the darn tin.

The kitchen itself looked like a war zone of sugar, butter, milk and flour. There were splatters _everywhere_ in the once pristine kitchen. Iruka was a good cook when it came to main courses or snacks. When it came to anything remotely associated with sugar, honey or syrup, Iruka was as useless as an old nin-sandal. The mere fact that there was a sack of flour on the sink with white sticky blotches around that area was proof enough. Of course, the mini hill of sugar under the table, the butter smears on the fridge door, dripping food coloring on the counter top and upturned beater and bowl on the stove also helped in proving the fact that he was indeed _useless_ when it came to sweet confectionery. The cook book – that bloody cook book that he spent one-thousand-forty-five Sound ryos on – was wedged somewhere between the fridge and stove, by the drainage hole with the cover half charred and the papers folded and torn in many areas. It was a book of how to bake every confectionary imaginable from blue berry short cake cookies to elaborated wedding cakes. When Iruka saw the book at the store, he immediately fell in love with it. Just seeing the pictures and bright colors sent him to la-la land and his head have a melt down with all the things he could make for his lover. Iruka had been cheery, kind, smiling and all-around _cute_ that his Sound class of hellions were completely taken aback. There were a few blushes from other people in the administrative office and a few pick up lines were thrown here and there, which turned to stuttered apologies when Kisame reminded these people just _who_ they're hitting on and what the other party – Itachi – is going to do if he found out.

Iruka just _had_ to pick the multi layered cake with green and white icing along with sugary-clay flower models on top. It was the perfect birthday cake regardless of the fact that said cake and its methods were found in the wedding confectionary section of the book. Iruka would_ not_ settle for a lesser cake. He managed to get the icing done – six large bowl fulls – that were now sitting snuggly in the fridge waiting to be spread on the cake. Well, they'd be on the cake by now if Iruka could only manage to chuck the darn sponge thing out of the damn tin!

"Stupid, stupid, stupid sponge jerk!" Iruka cursed holding the tin upside down above his head and stare at it. It's been one hour and Iruka was _sure_ he greased the pan well. Did he? "Come out already!" Iruka hissed and started shaking the tin up and down it its upturned position. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" A violent shake resulted the sponge cake to just flop on the counter with an audible soft popping sound. Iruka stared at it quietly before doing a double take and checking the pan. "Funny. The book said scoop it out. Didn't mention anything about it popping down by itself when upturned." Shrugging, he tossed the tin away in to the sink that resulted in a cloud of flour rising in the air and a loud clang.

Iruka began to shaking the other tins until the sponge cakes did pop out. Out of the seven tins he had, four survived since the rest managed to pop only half of itself out from Iruka's hard shakes. Iruka stared at the sponge cakes before him, before inhaling and rolling his sleeves up once more. Iruka himself didn't look very professional or very ninja-like at the moment. His usually erect ponytail was now drooped and half way undone before the locks fell free down his shoulders. He had icing smears on his cheek and blotches of flour and butter on his arm and clothes. He looked like he just came out of a food fight – or paint ball battle considering that food coloring marred the shirt and pants he was wearing. There was a large green smear on his forehead as well.

What was left for Iruka to do was arrange the cakes in layers with the help of pegs and customized pillars then ice it. He had bought the icing-piper and two cans of icing spray. Iruka had read the icing methods of the cake and memorized it in fifteen minutes. Being a Chuunin and ninja (throw in a shinobi-teacher as well) made him capable of memorizing things really fast. What method number eighteen said was that the bakes cakes must be layered and iced thinly so as to cover any spec of the desired flavor of the sponge.

Iruka had made those customized pegs, being good in arts and crafts and had already set it up according to the baking tins' measurements. All he had to do now was customize it yet again due to the ruined sponge cake. Determined, Iruka shoved unwanted things on the table to the floor, causing puddles of food coloring liquid to merge and form bizarre colors. There was a series of clanks and crashes as the unwanted things (forks, spoons, and toothpicks, butter knife, cutting knife, bowls, plastic plates and things that are not breakable unless great force is used). Iruka was already tired. He's been in the kitchen since seven in the morning and it was already close to two-thirty in the afternoon.

"I'm not giving up! This is for Itachi! Today is his birthday!" Iruka sucked in a deep breath then narrowed his eyes. "I can do this!"

That said aloud, Iruka began to re-customize the stand he made till it looked passable. Instead of a seven layered cake, he ended up with only three layers because of the sizes he can use. The rest of the sponge cake was going to go to waste, so Iruka managed to come up with an idea to use the damaged ones and the smallest tin-sized cake he was stuck with. A soft folk tune began to hum at the back of his throat as he took out the icing bowls from the fridge and began the tedious task of spreading them on the cake with the help of a fork and knife. He used white icing first, and then he'd spray the entire cake with the yellow icing spray can he bought. After that, he'd pipe the design instructed on the book.

In the middle of coating the last cake, Iruka slipped on a puddle of food coloring, and landed on his side. He didn't manage to catch his balance and mishandled the cutting knife he was using to ice, ending up with a large gash on his right hand. Iruka groaned from the fall, his hip aching badly that there surely would be a bruise later on. He pulled himself up and headed for the sink. Much to his dismay, it was being blocked with the sack of flour he used earlier so he routed himself to the bathroom. While he shoved his hand under the tap, hissing as warm water hit the wound, he took note that the cut was not deep enough to need stitches but enough to demand tight bandaging. Iruka berated himself a clumsy fool while he dressed the cut on his hand. He _knew_ that things would go slow from this point on due to the hindrance provided by his newly acquired cut. Hopefully, it wouldn't scar.

Truth be told, by the time Iruka placed the cakes in their rightful peg-stands and layered the damaged ones, it was already quarter-to-four in the afternoon. His hand was killing him but not enough to discourage him. He pulled his icing-piper out and, like the book said, began to pipe the green icing to a beautiful artistic like design on the cakes.

XXX

Itachi climbed the steps of the apartment complex he and Iruka lived in. It was about quarter to one in the morning and he's just come from a long and tiring gathering with other village politicians (that lasted till four in the afternoon) and after that a meeting with Akatsuki members and affiliates. Itachi felt worn, tired and just wanted to curl up on the bed, nose Iruka a bit, maybe exchange a few kisses, get a blowjob and perhaps, just perhaps, good sex, and then sleep. It sounded like a good plan to the Uchiha, so he decided that is what he's going to do while he juggled for his keys under his Kage cloak. It was at times like these did Itachi wonder why he was the Sound's Kage. Being an active and vital member of Akatsuki was tiring enough on its own and now he had a village to be responsible for. Though he must admit, the alliance with Konoha seems to have lifted things a bit. And with the shinobi exchange to promote more trust between Sound and Konoha gives him all the more reason to molest – err – love Iruka some more and have no one bother him or give lectures. He's the freaking _Kage_ for heaven's sakes!

The lock clicked open as Itachi pushed the door open, stepped it and kicked it closed. He began to strip his Kage cloak, head pounding a bit from the fatigue-induced migraine he had since his first meeting ended. Itachi wanted to kick the conference table of his fellow Akatsuki colleagues to orbit because he _felt_ like it and hell would freeze over before he answered the _why_ question. He was hungry, barely got any sleep and damn, and where is Iruka?

"I'm home." He mumbled, straightening his Kage robes and heading for the closet door in the hallway. He touched the door knob and stifled a yawn as he turned it. What he did _not_ expect in his already hazy and tired state was for two large black rubbish bag _fall_ out from the closet door he opened.

_On him!_

Another thing that Itachi did not expect in his already _hazy and tired_ state was for the fucking bag to open and release all sorts of _junk_ on him, on his robe, on his _hair_ and _face!_ The first thing that registered in Itachi's head as he sat on the hallway floor, on his ass, was that the said rubbish bags had kitchen utensils and a very, very blotchy and stinky bag of flour that somehow managed to get to the bag's opening and breathe out it's disgusting powdery _self_ on Itachi's clothes and hair. Itachi could feel the wheels of his Sharingan _turn_ as he stared at the gaping closet door. There were no signs of a jutsu. The rubbish bags were indeed placed and shoved in to the closet door that was already full to begin with. Itachi shoved the bags off him in an annoyed fashion that was not associated with his persona and got to his feet. The loud rushing sound made him look down.

_Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-tshk-tshk-tshhhk-shhhhh-tshk_

Itachi tried _very_ hard to not react at the mess in front of him. The sound, apparently, came from the bag of sugar from one of the rubbish bags that oh so conveniently managed to get it's sweet and crystallized _self_ on Itachi's robes. There was a half arc pattern of white sugar by Itachi's feet on the _normally_ clean floors. Itachi felt his blood boil and a very, very foul mood rising. He ignored the mess and stalked towards the kitchen. He could feel Iruka and with the Sharingan on, he can see the man's chakra outline beyond the divider erected between the hallway and dining-living area. Itachi turned to the kitchen to get himself something to drink before he puts a hole in the wall.

Itachi flicked the lights of the kitchen on and _stared_. What greeted him was a fairly decent looking kitchen that was exceptionally clean except for those uncalled for color stains on the counter, fridge door, walls, sink and all _over_ and gas range. They were the type of stains that probably stubbornly refused to leave during cleaning and demanded strong cleaning agents. Itachi briefly wondered why Iruka even found such a sight acceptable. Then the question popped in Itachi's head. Why are there color stains inside the whole kitchen?

Itachi stepped in and pulled the fridge door open. To his dismay, he found all the eggs, milk and water _gone_. He just had one of the genins deliver a new stock of eggs and milk a few days ago and he _swore_ there were more than a dozen eggs when he drank water earlier that morning before leaving. Just where did _all_ the eggs go? And the _milk!_

Itachi pushed the fridge door shut and rubbed a temple. He ended up with his fingers smeared with flour and scowled at the white smears on his fingers. Whoever put those rubbish bags in Uchiha Itachi's hall closet is going to suffer a very bad and painful spell of Mangekyou Sharingan for the next three years.

Shaking his head, Itachi stepped out of the kitchen and headed for the living room. That was when he just _stopped_ and _stared_.

On the table sat a three layered cake with four small others surrounding it. They were decorated, iced to perfection and just look plain delicious. It also looked like something out a bakery's display window or a cooking book. It was a big cake. There were just lots of cake on the dining table right now and Itachi finally understood the color smears and the rubbish bags. He shifted his gaze to the person slumped on one of the dining chairs, arms folded on the table, head resting on it, fast asleep. Itachi walked forward and took a look at the cakes within closer range. Everything just looked beautiful and so delicious. They were real and they were his. On the top most layer of the three storey cake was a little sign that said:

_Happy Birthday Itachi_

Itachi found no words. He looked at Iruka once again and noted the state of the teacher. Iruka was a flour-sugar-butter-milky mess. There were icing smears on his face and nose and his clothes was an image of chaos from a confectionary battle. The ponytail was long gone and there was a nice green finger smudge on Iruka's forehead. Itachi reached out to finger Iruka's cheek, a very, very small smile tugging at his lips.

"Iruka." Itachi whispered, stirring the elder man awake from his deep slumber briefly. Itachi decided to leave him for a bit and headed for the bathroom, shedding his shirt as he did so. He corked the tub and turned the hot water on, fixing the temperature until the water was moderate enough for a bath. He prepared the towels before padding back out to the dining room to fetch his lover. Itachi wrapped his arms around Iruka's torso, nuzzling at the Chuunin's ears with his nose. "Iruka."

Iruka stirred awake upon hearing his lover's voice, a very exhausted and tired smile tugging at the Chuunin's lips. "Welcome home." Iruka tilted his head back and reached up with his right hand to pull Itachi for a kiss. Itachi complied of course but pulled back after a few seconds to stare at Iruka's bandaged hand.

"What happened?" Itachi asked, staring at the slightly blood stained bandage. Iruka winced at the hold Itachi had on it, but said nothing.

"Accident." Iruka answered, pushing himself up from the chair, rubbing the back of his neck that was aching from the sleeping position he was in earlier.

Itachi didn't say anything, but there was crease in between his brows indicating that he was disappointed that his lover was hurt. "I see."

Iruka appeared before him and kissed his nose, nipped at it his lips then smiled broadly. "Happy birthday."

Itachi stared in to Iruka's honest and exhausted eyes. "You made those?" Iruka nodded. "You could have made dangos instead." Itachi mumbled, staring at the cake. Iruka said nothing, but a shift of emotions within the Chuunin's eyes made Itachi reconsider his words. "I've never had a large cake like that before." Iruka smiled a bit more and turned to look at the cakes instead. Itachi leaned forward against Iruka, licking one side of the Chuunin's neck. Long and calloused fingers reached up and tilted Iruka's face so that Itachi could capture his lips. Like a starved man, Itachi devoured Iruka, tongue invading the elder man's mouth, vacant hand reaching for the man's waistband, fingering and teasing the area. Itachi pulled back just as Iruka was melting in his arms, smile linger on his lips. "Thank you."

Iruka stared at himself. "I'm so dirty. I fell asleep. I can't hold you like this. I'll ruin your –"

Itachi pressed a finger to Iruka's lips, signaling him to be quiet. Itachi brought Iruka's uninjured hand and placed it on his hip, pulling Iruka close to him. "Come." Itachi gave Iruka's chin and lower lip a slow sensual lick before dragging the Chuunin to the bathroom, the bath ready. Mechanically, Itachi started to strip off his pants and underwear while Iruka turned to do the same. Itachi turned to find Iruka folding his dirty clothes to a neat pile by the sink. Itachi admired the naked backside before reaching and tugging at Iruka's hair, tilting the man's head back so that it rested on Itachi's shoulder. "Beautiful." Itachi mumbled, mouthing the words against Iruka's temple. Itachi could faintly taste the sweet green icing off Iruka's skin.

"So are you, Onkage-sama." Iruka mumbled, groaning a bit as Itachi snaked his arms forward to wrap around Iruka's slim waist, fingers caressing the area around Iruka's belly button.

Itachi led Iruka to their large bathtub and made the Chuunin sit in between his spread legs, arms wrapping around Iruka's neck. They remained still under the warm water until Iruka decided to make himself _very_ comfortable against Itachi by scooting closer and pressing his back against the Uchiha's toned chest. Iruka rested his head against Itachi's shoulder, bandaged hand hanging out of the bathtub. The other hand began to play with Itachi's knee cap, rubbing slow lazy circles. Itachi watched as Iruka stared at the steam clouding the bathroom with hazy and heavy lidded eyes while his kiss bruised lips remained parted. Itachi leaned forward, dark hair floating in the water and pasted to his neck and temples, while a hand reached out for the bar of soap.

"Close your eyes." Itachi whispered, rubbing lather with his hands while Iruka complied. Itachi began to clean up Iruka's face from all the sugar and cake ingredients used. Soaping it clean and feeling the curves of Iruka's face was enough to make Itachi feel content. With his hands, Itachi scooped warm water and rinsed Iruka's face as if he were made of glass. Itachi admired the clean face like always did. The trickles of water on the tanned skin looked like tears and with Iruka keeping his eyes closed, it looked like the Chuunin was crying in his sleep. Itachi leaned forward and started to nibble at Iruka's ear, lips mumbling sweet nothings, while Iruka's lips tugged to a smile. "You're very sticky."

"Icing." Iruka answered.

"You taste like the cake." Itachi mumbled pulling Iruka closer and began to drag his teeth down the Chuunin's neck.

"You haven't even tried it yet." Iruka reasoned, craning his neck to one side to allow Itachi better access.

"I will." Itachi turned Iruka's head so that he can stare at the man's eyes. "With you."

(Smut goes here. If you want the full version, then follow this alter link – minus the spaces – for the full thing. Yes, it's mediaminer. I'll provide DA once I've got a cover done.)

http/ www. mediaminer. org/ fanfic/ viewch.php/ 93000/311609/

XXX

Iruka woke up the next morning at around quarter to eight feeling lazy and just great. Itachi was still asleep, lying on his back with his face turned towards Iruka, hair splayed across the pillow. On the bedside table lay a plate and a fork, both smeared with icing. After their shower, Iruka had gone to fetch some cake and fork-fed Itachi with it. Itachi's sweet tooth surprised Iruka to no end.

Iruka pushed himself off the bed and pulled the covers over Itachi's naked form. He picked up the plate and fished for a pair of pants. He had no classes to teach that day, and he should probably get breakfast ready since Itachi would want to eat something more filling. Upon stepping towards the hall, he noticed the rubbish bags lying on the floor. Iruka bit his lower lip, chuckling a bit. He would have thrown it out himself, not wanting to touch or see anything even remotely associated with confectionary ingredients and utensils. Iruka would have gone out, walked down the street and toss said rubbish bags in to the large dumpster container if he hadn't felt like wanting to pass out on the nearest available flat surface (he nearly dozed off in the middle of scrubbing the sink clean, the action itself nearly took his nose cartilage away). Instead, he stuffed nearly _everything_ in to two large bags, dragged them and shoved it in to the closet door. He did vow to throw them out the next morning.

Iruka hurried to the kitchen and took out more rubbish bags, arranging the things in the two large full ones in to new empty ones so that they didn't look like it would spit its contents out. Summoning a clone, Iruka made the two temporary 'hims' to dispose of the rubbish bags outside. That done, he swept and mopped the area clean before proceeding to his earlier intentions of making breakfast. All the while, Itachi remained asleep. Iruka felt a tug of a sympathetic smile play at his lips while he set the kettle to boil. Itachi is a very busy man that it didn't really surprise him that Itachi would come home and just sleep.

Just as Iruka was preparing the bagels, he heard Itachi enter the bathroom. By the time Iruka had the coffee ready; Itachi had his arms around his waist from behind and was nuzzling at Iruka's neck.

"Good morning." Iruka greeted, smiling. The only reply he got was Itachi mumbling through his skin. "Breakfast?"

"Hmm. Yes." Itachi nodded and pinned Iruka on the counter, mouth on the Chuunin's throat.

Iruka laughed, and pushed Itachi away gently. "Seriously. Sex later. Eat first. I'll feed you if want." Itachi continued to look at him. "Straddle me while I feed you?

Itachi dragged Iruka to the couch, balancing a tray of breakfast with one hand.

XXX

In Itachi's office, where Kisame and Kabuto stood in front of an open box staring at its contents, Itachi's Sharingan flashed red, waiting for them to say something while he twirled a pen in his hand.

Or try.

"Thank you, Onkage-sama." Kabuto said, knowing it was not wise to question the purpose of having a box of nicely decorated cake being offered to them. It wasn't much of an offer really since Itachi said something like, 'Take. Now.' and glared really hard.

Kisame seemed braver than Kabuto obviously. "What's this?" Itachi narrowed his eyes while he sat on his Kage chair behind his Kage table. The office was simple yet grand with its tones of black, beige and blue. "Is it poisoned?" Kisame asked, looking at Kabuto.

The pen in Itachi's hand _snapped_.

Kabuto began to eat the cake faster and offered a laugh. "It's very good cake, Onkage-sama. Ne, ne, Kisame-san?" There was a hint of warning in Kabuto's tone while he said Kisame's name.

Kisame shrugged. "Well, you haven't dropped dead yet. Guess it's not poisoned." Kisame reached for the plate and fork and tried a slice. Of course, Kisame and Kabuto were _very_ aware of Itachi's relationship with Iruka, so Kisame figured it out that Iruka must have made the cake. "This is good. Your kitchen still alive?"

Kabuto _swore_ he heard the two broken halves of the pen in Itachi's hand_ grind_.

For the next few days, Kisame and Kabuto found themselves teaching Sound's hellions instead of Iruka.

Itachi was at home, coaxing Iruka to straddle him _again_ and share their cake.

One only knows what kind of _sharing_ Itachi wanted of course. It was his birthday after all.

Or felt like it really.

TBC

Ummm …

So what do you think? Should I dodge tomatoes now? …


End file.
